Dinner in the Church
by StarlightSorcerer
Summary: Carl couldn't remember the last time everyone was this happy.
The church was a very warm place that night. Carl couldn't remember the last time everyone was this happy. Maybe back at the prison. That seemed like a lifetime ago. When it seemed as though the Governor was gone for good, there was a great period of peace. Well, nothing was ever perfect…but Carl believed that that was as close to peace as they could get in this world. He learned something very important, after the return of the Governor, after the fall of the prison, and after all the other horrors they had faced outside its walls…he learned that good moments were fleeting. He had to really cherish them, take them in and remember what they felt like. When things got bad again, he would have these moments to keep him going.

Carl scanned the church, taking a sort of mental picture of the whole scene. His family eating, sharing stories, smiling, even laughing. He got his plate and searched the place for his dad. He found him sitting by the altar, feeding Judith. Rosita, Eugene, and Daryl were sitting nearby. Carl made his way over, still surprised to feel himself smiling. He sought the spot between his dad and Rosita, but it was immediately filled by Abraham. He plopped down heavily, mouth overflowing with food.

"Hope you didn't finish the story without me!" Carl thought he had said, but it was pretty hard to tell with his mouth so full.

Rosita made a disgusted face. "Swallow," she ordered.

"Mmm!" Abraham chuckled. "Thought that was _my_ line!"

Rick smiled as Judith sucked on the small, plastic spoon full of baby food. He looked up. "Right. Where was I?"

Carl made his way over to Daryl, deciding that that was where he would sit.

"It had been going on for two weeks now," Eugene replied. He noticed Carl trying to get past him, and pulled his legs up to his chest. Carl still ended up stumbling on a loose floorboard.

Rick nodded. "So, I was starting to lose my patience, as you'd imagine. Only edible thing in that whole cafeteria, and he took it, every day. But this time…" Rick paused dramatically, glancing between the members of his audience. "This time —"

"You kicked his ass!" Abraham guessed.

"Seems likely," Eugene concurred.

"About time," Rosita chuckled.

Carl wondered if Daryl was even listening to the story; he seemed more interested his meal than anything else. Carl peered around him to look at his dad. "The pudding story?" he asked.

Rick grinned. "That's right."

"What? What happened?" Rosita asked excitedly.

"He comes up to me, like usual," Rick continued, "and he reaches for the tray, then, I hear this yell behind me like a battle cry —"

"Oh, shit!" Abraham chuckled.

Rosita shushed him loudly.

Rick went on, "So I turn around, and standing right in front of him, all ready for a fight —"

"It was Shane," Abraham finished.

"Yep," Rick confirmed. "Told you he'd be back."

"Please, do tell me he beat his ass bloody."

Rick grimaced. "Not quite. Remember, this guy was huge, all right. Shane got a few good hits in there, he put up a good fight. Still ended up in the hospital."

"Yikes," Rosita said.

"We decided it was a victory, though. After that day, that guy never stole my pudding cup again."

"Sounds to me like an awfully foolish man," Eugene concluded. "He got himself admitted to the emergency room trying to protect some dessert."

"Eugene, you idiot ass," Abraham snapped. "He did it to protect _Rick._ And the pudding. Mostly Rick. If that ain't the heroic act of a best-friend-forever, I don't know what is."

Carl noticed Daryl becoming a bit tense. His dad's smile had faded a little. After a small gap in conversation, Abraham launched into a story about his own high school years. Carl glanced at Daryl, who was devouring his meal faster than he could blink.

"I feel kinda left out," Carl admitted. "I never got to go to high school."

"You ain't missin' much," Daryl said pointedly.

Carl nodded. "Good to know. Uhh…do you have any good high school stories?"

Daryl snorted. "No. Just stupid shit."

"Isn't…isn't that kind of the point, though? Good stories can be stupid sometimes."

"Ain't the good kinda stupid."

Carl was about to comment, but he got distracted by Rosita, who wasn't enjoying Abraham's story at all.

"Would you stop?" she growled at her boyfriend.

Abraham put his hands up. "What? I don't see much of a problem with this story." He turned to Rick. "Rick? How 'bout —"

"He's being polite," Rosita interrupted. "He's not going to say it's awful."

Abraham whipped around. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Maybe you could take a few pointers from him."

Rosita threw her arms up in frustration. "Jesus Christ!"

"Need I remind you that we are in a church," Eugene said.

Rosita noisily gathered her plate and utensils. She stood up, her eyes narrowed vindictively at Abraham. "I cannot believe you are talking about screwing other women _in front of me!"_

Abraham laughed. "When…when did I screw somebody in front of you? I think I would remember that."

Rosita rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"All right, first of all, first of all…" Abraham glanced around to make sure everybody was listening, though it seemed like something only Rosita needed to hear. "You have no proof that that was where my story was going. Secondly…happened a long time ago didn't mean anything," he finished quickly.

Rosita shot one last glare at him and stormed off without another word.

Rick stared wide-eyed at the floor. Carl knew what he was thinking, and he agreed: being this close to relationship drama was severely uncomfortable.

Abraham looked at her sadly. "Woman troubles," he sighed. He looked to Rick. "Am I right?"

Rick made a noncommittal noise.

Abraham pointed to Daryl. "This guy. This guy knows what I'm talkin' about."

Daryl didn't look at him. "Nobody wants to hear you talk about screwin'."

Abraham chuckled. "Are you always this grumpy? Relax. Learn to enjoy things. Life is beautiful."

"Yeah, when you ain't talkin," Daryl muttered under his breath.

Abraham's eyes widened. "Ooh. Shots fired. I'd be a fool not to fire back. Well, let me just check my ammo…" He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, pretending to be searching for something. "Ahh! Here we go!" He raised his middle finger. "Boom."

Daryl stared at him for a bit. He sighed and flipped him off right back, like it was just something tiresome he was required to do.

Abraham smirked. "Really now? Really? So that's how it is." He let out a chuckle and lowered his hand. He jumped to his feet. "Well, I'm gonna go talk to Rosita." He cast a worried look at Rick. "Let's see if I can get her to stop hating my guts. Rick, you try and cheer up Mister Deliverance while I'm gone."

Rick simply nodded at him as he left. Judith started to fuss in his arms. He handed her over to Carl. "Could you get her something to eat?" he asked.

Carl smiled at his baby sister. "Yeah, sure." He got up and made his way to the food table. Behind him, his dad was talking to Daryl in a hushed voice.

"I'm sure he meant it in a nice way," he said in regards to Abraham's comment. "I've always really liked Lewis. He was a smart guy."

Carl realized this was his attempt to stop things from escalating. Carl still thought a fight between them would be unlikely. Abraham was annoying, but not annoying enough that he needed to be beaten up.

When Carl got to the food table, Michonne was there, filling her plate.

"Hey there, kiddo," she greeted him. "How are you holding up?"

"Just fine," Carl replied. "A little better than fine, actually." He reached for the apple sauce, but didn't have both hands free to unscrew it. "Can you…?"

Michonne grabbed the apple sauce and twisted off the cap. She handed the jar to him. "And Judith?" she asked.

"I think she's enjoying herself, too," Carl replied cheerfully. As he fed Judith the applesauce, he took another look around the church. He saw that Abraham was talking with Rosita, who was still looking a bit aggravated. Sasha and Bob and Glenn and Maggie were all having what looked to be a pleasant conversation. Tara sat off to the side, listening in warily. Eugene had moved from his spot and was now talking to Tyreese. Carl was very curious about what it was he was saying. Whatever it was, Tyreese looked pretty confused. Carol was sitting in the middle of one of the aisles, all alone.

Michonne noticed where he was looking. "She hasn't had anything to eat yet," she told him.

Carl frowned. "Really?"

Michonne nodded.

Carl handed over Judith to Michonne. "Umm, do you mind?" he asked.

Michonne grinned. "No, no. Not at all." She bounced Judith in her arms.

Carl put aside the empty applesauce jar and grabbed a paper plate from the pile. He began filling it with food.

"Daryl should be the one doing this," Michonne sighed. "Mike always got food for me, especially after I had a rough day…" She scoffed at her words. "Rough day. Doesn't really mean what it used to."

"Today's probably been the least rough day in a while," Carl noted.

"Agreed." Michonne patted him on the back. "Go on."

Carl walked quickly to deliver his food. He glanced back at Michonne, who gave him a little salute. When he got to Carol, he could see that she was staring at the pew opposite her, in an almost trance-like state. Even when he sat down beside her, she didn't seem to notice.

"Hi, Carol," he greeted her.

She jumped slightly when he spoke. She finally looked at him, smiling warmly. "Hi, Carl."

Carl smiled back. He held out his plate. "I brought you some food."

"Oh, no thanks." Carol put her hand on her stomach. "I've had enough. But thanks for looking out for me."

Carl stared in disbelief for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Yeah, sure," he mumbled. _Why is she lying to me?_ It bothered him, but he didn't feel like calling her out on it. There was something much more important that he wanted to say to her. His words caught in his throat, though, when he saw the look on Carol's face. She was still smiling, but her gaze seemed almost melancholy.

"When did you get so big?" she said. "I blinked and you grew up."

Carl chuckled. "Yeah. Sometimes, I don't know…it seems like just yesterday, we were at that camp in Atlanta. Do you ever feel like that?"

Carol shook her head.

"We had some good times."

"Sure."

Carl's eyes shimmered as he thought back to that time. "I remember really liking Dale's binoculars, like, I wanted to look through them _all_ the time."

Carol nodded. "Yes, I remember. You got on his bad side at least once."

"Yeah," Carl chuckled again. "I really liked looking into the woods more than the city. Oh! I remember this one time, me and Sophia…" he trailed off. _No, no, no. Why did I mention her? I wasn't even thinking. Stupid, stupid._

Carol could see that he was scolding himself. "It's okay," she said gently. "You can talk about her if you want to."

"I-I don't know," Carl stammered. "It's not a very good story." He nervously wrung his hands. He had been thinking of the time he and Sophia had sneaked off into the woods. Sophia had been extremely reluctant to do this, but Carl had talked her into it. He felt guilty about doing so for a while afterwards. They'd heard some rustling in the bushes, and thought for sure it was a walker, but it turned out to be just a harmless squirrel. Regardless, the whole experience left them pretty spooked, so they hurried back to camp as fast as their feet would carry them.

Carl hadn't thought about Sophia for a long time. He knew for sure that Carol thought about her every day. Sophia was her daughter, after all. To Carl, she was a friend he'd only known a very short time. He realized then why Carol had looked a bit sad when she was saying how much he'd grown. Sophia never got to grow up. Carl tried to push away those thoughts, and got back to what he had wanted to say earlier. What he'd wanted to say when he first saw her in the woods.

"I'm glad you're back," he said.

Carol smiled. Carl really expected her to say something, but she remained silent.

"And you're glad to be back…?"

"I'm very happy to see everyone again," she replied.

Carl smiled. "Umm," he started nervously. "So…Terminus…"

Carol raised her eyebrows. "Yes…?"

"Can you tell me how you did all that?"

Carol stayed quiet for a little while, glancing around thoughtfully. "Hmm. Maybe."

"Maybe?" Carl echoed, disappointed.

"Later."

"Okay." Carl paused for a tiny bit. He absent-mindedly poked at the still uneaten food he'd brought. "How about now?"

Carol pushed him playfully and he laughed.

"I had to try," he said.


End file.
